


Missing Home

by intomyfantasy



Series: 23:59 [5]
Category: Mewgulf
Genre: Can be read as a stand alone, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mew's PoV, and doesn't-know-how-to-gnor gulf, mostly sulking mew, very light daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intomyfantasy/pseuds/intomyfantasy
Summary: “P’Mew are you already in the shower?”“Not yet,” he breathed out.“Can we shower together?"orGulf has his own way to show that he cares.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Series: 23:59 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563004
Comments: 107
Kudos: 695





	Missing Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [归心似箭 Chinese edition of Missing Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538438) by [telljiezou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telljiezou/pseuds/telljiezou)



> This one shot probably needs some more work, but it's been in my dafts for two weeks and I'm genuinely TIRED of reading it over, so I'm posting it as it is. 
> 
> The story takes place during the filming of TharnType season 2, but you'll probably gather by reading it :') Please note that all the endearments Mew uses are different, possible translations of tua-aeng, so you can imagine he's saying that in thai!
> 
> Have fun and please leave a comment if you liked it!
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to say that since we usually refer to Nong Stu as a single entity I did the same in this fiction and used "they/their" as pronuns, since the staff from MSS are both male and females. Even in the story the Nong Stu mentioned isn't always the same person, it's either one or multiple people from MSS. I hope it's not too confusing!

Mew was tired.

No, he was exhausted.

He had been working non-stop from very early morning, had two photoshoots with connected interviews, two live shows and finally went to practice for his showcase in the late evening, successfully coming back to his condo at 2 AM.

After a restorative shower, he finally hit his bed and he was _dying_.

He could barely keep his eyes open but he willed himself to grab his phone for the first time in hours.

Unfortunately, there was no new message from Gulf. He opened their Line chat just to double check that he hadn’t somehow deleted the notification, but the last text bubble from his boyfriend was already more than a day old. Mew had warned Gulf the previous evening about his packed schedule, and the boy had replied with a _susu ngub phi_ and the sticker of a cartoon cat going _fighting!_

Even then, he had been too tired for their nightly videocall.

There was little chance that Gulf was still up, considering that they had filming just in a few hours, but Mew found himself typing a message anyway.

_Are you still up?_

He stared at it for as long as he could after sending it, waiting for the “read” to pop up next to the text bubble, but his eyelids were heavier than usual.

He was thinking about how nice it would have been to have Gulf lying in bed next to him instead, when the grip on his phone slacked and the exhaustion of the day brought him under.

\--

Nong Stu shook him awake what felt like a couple minutes later.

Apparently, he had totally forgotten to recharge his phone and the poor thing had died before it could blast his alarm, so his staff members had let themselves in his apartment to see if he was still alive.

Mew wasn’t too convinced by his condition that morning – he felt hungover, even though he hadn’t touched a single drop of alcohol in… he couldn’t even remember how long. It felt like he had a nail stuck in the middle of his forehead and all his thoughts kept bumping into it, too drunk to avoid it.

He managed to stand and walk to the bathroom after a couple of minutes, while Nong Stu gathered what he needed for the day. He threw himself in the shower, hoping that it would wake him up enough to be somewhat aware of his surroundings, and brushed his teeth in a haze.

He only started to feel better when Nong Stu pushed a take away box between his hands and he filled his stomach with what looked like _kai jiew_ (omelette) and steamed rice, while his van navigated the traffic of Bangkok towards the filming site.

He passed the empty take-away box back to Nong Stu when he was done, and received his newly recharged phone in exchange.

Scrolling through his notifications, he was reminded that he had sent a message to Gulf the previous night and he found out that his nong had actually replied him, just a couple minutes later with a simple “yes.”

Mew opened the chat, expecting to see more, but there was nothing. No follow up to that simple word.

It immediately put him in a bad mood.

He locked his phone and dropped it wherever, as long as he didn’t have to see it, turning to the city for distraction.

It wasn’t Gulf’s fault that he had collapsed without seeing the other’s reply, but the simplicity of his message made his hands itch. It was typical Gulf, really, nothing out of the ordinary, but the lack of sleep was making it more annoying than usual. It was one of the reasons why he preferred phone calls (videocalls were even better) to texting. Gulf was hard to read in normal circumstances, but he was impenetrable on text and Mew hated that he rarely elaborated in his replies, always choosing to answer questions at face value, as briefly as possible, without giving anything else away.

Yes, you just woke me up with your message? Yes, I’ve been up playing games? Yes, I was waiting for you to get home? Yes, how was your day? Yes, can we call? Yes, but I’m going to sleep now, see you tomorrow?

Yes… _what?_ Which one was it?

He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to catch some more rest.

\--

He got on the set of TharnType last that morning, which heightened his annoyance – if there was something he hated it was tardiness on work, though he was still perfectly on time.

The crew was almost finished mounting the equipment on set and he got called into the dressing room before he could greet everyone properly.

He let the make-up artist deal with his horrible eye bags, but ended up making her job more difficult by constantly glancing in all directions in search for someone.

The woman grabbed his chin to keep him still and rolled her eyes. “He’s not here yet, stop moving.”

“Who isn’t?”

She gave him a look and ignored his question completely, tapping her foundation sponge under his eyes for the millionth time. “Are you guys having a fight? You should know he has no scenes until later in the morning.”

He filed the information away, but didn’t answer, opting for closing his eyes and let the make-up artist finish her job.

He reviewed the script while they fixed his hair and was thrown into his scenes at Tharn’s family house as soon as his styling was done.

A couple hours later, he caught Gulf arriving on set with the corner of his eye, while p’Hugo took the wire-microphone off of him. His nong glanced his way and smiled in greeting and Mew couldn’t help doing the same.

Their connection was short lived, though. P’Hugo asked him to turn over and by the time he faced the rest of the crew again, Gulf was gone, probably sucked in the changing room.

He headed there too as soon as his part of the job was done.

His make-up artist was already waiting for him with a sponge to retouch his foundation, but Mew ignored her, took his chair and moved it closer to Gulf, who was getting his hair styled with his eyes closed, probably still half asleep.

The staff in the room exchanged a look, but they didn’t comment, and his make-up artist followed him with her tools, so that she could work wherever he was.

Gulf cracked one eye open and greeted him with a rough voice – definitely still asleep.

Mew found his hand and rested his there, already more settled by the feeling of his boyfriend’s skin under his fingertips.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, I fell asleep.” He would have liked to rest his head on Gulf’s shoulder while saying that, but the make-up artist was already giving him the death glare, so he kept as upright as he could, while she tapped her sponge insistently on his face.

“It’s okay, I thought so.” The younger yawned, and Mew realized that he looked as tired as him, though as far as he knew his schedule wasn’t nearly as packed. His face looked puffy and he had bad eye bags under his barely opened eyes too.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, feeling worry bubble in his chest. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up in a couple of days.”

Gulf hummed to answer his question and squeezed his eyes shut, so that the hairdresser could fix his hair with some hair spray. He blinked mismatchedly a couple of times with a frown on his face to avoid the remains of spray still floating in the air and Mew found himself smiling at his funny face.

“P’Mew, p’Gulf, you have ten minutes before shooting,” Jane warned them, peaking inside the room.

“Krub,” they answered at the same time.

“We should rehearse the script,” Gulf said, when the hairdresser and the make-up artist were satisfied with their job and left them alone.

Mew wished he had more time to fish for more elaborate answers from Gulf, but he didn’t and they were working, so it wasn’t the right moment to be stubborn.

“Right…” He retrieved his own script and started reading through it with Gulf.

\--

By the time their umpteenth emotional scene for the series was over, Mew had a thrumming headache.

He sat on the dressing room sofa and closed his eyes, hoping that it would subside if he just cut out all the stimuli coming from the set and that Gulf would come over soon to be his pillow.

He didn’t know when or how he had fallen asleep. He was surprised that he had fallen asleep at all, considering the horrible and uncomfortable position he was in, but next thing he knew, Nong Stu was waking him (again) because the brief pause between his schedule commitments was over and they needed to move to his next job. They had already waited as much as they could to let him sleep more, he could continue his nap in the van – or so they told him.

Mew was hardly listening. He looked around the room, feeling disoriented.

“Where’s Gulf?” he asked. His voice came out so groggy that his words were barely distinguishable.

“On set.”

He frowned, but got himself to stand and get out of the room. Right. He had forgotten. He was leaving for the day, but Gulf was going to be on set until closure.

Just a couple of people from the crew who were still milling in the house paid attention to him when he came out of the dressing room and he _wai_ -ed at them. “I’ll be going, then.” 

“Good job today,” they answered, giving him a couple pats on his shoulder.

It looked like they were packing the remaining equipment in the room.

He turned to his staff with a questioning look on his face.

“They moved the set for the rest of the day,” Nong Stu explained, though it should have really been obvious. Type didn’t have that many scenes at the Kiriguns’ house, they clearly had to go somewhere else to continue. He should have thought about that.

He pressed his lips together and got in his van. He checked his phone, but what he was searching for wasn’t there. 

“Did Gulf ever come in the dressing room?”

His team exchanged a look.

“We don’t know, boss. We didn’t pay attention.”

“Right.”

He turned his head away and closed his eyes. 

\--

That night he thankfully got home a couple hours before the previous day. He went through his nightly routine on autopilot.

He was ashamed to admit that he spent five minutes staring at the ceiling of his room when he got in bed, debating if he should call his boyfriend or not with a frown on his face and a bitter taste in his mouth.

No matter how much he tried to brush it off, he felt irritated.

He turned on his side and frowned, thinking that he should just sleep it off. Calling Gulf when he was in that mood often brought to fighting and he had no energy for that.

That resolution was short-lived, though. Sleeping a problem off wasn’t his modus operandi – it was Gulf’s. In his case, tackling his feelings head on was the only real way to resolve his issues and prevent them from becoming bigger.

So turned over in his bed, reached for his phone again, and started a Line call with Gulf before he could talk himself out of it.

Gulf answered almost immediately.

“Hey.”

The sleepyhead was already buried under the covers, the green of his childhood bedroom walls filtering through the blankets and giving a slightly yellowish hue to his skin tone.

“P’Mew,” he greeted. His smile was groggy against the pillow. “Are you home already?”

He instantly felt himself relax and the irritated tingle under his skin subsided. Simply being able to see Gulf’s bare face and his plushy lips move over his retainers made him feel better. He felt the urge to caress his fluffy hair and brush away the strand that was falling into his right eye.

“I finished early today,” he answered, way more softly than he thought he would. “Did the rest of the filming go well?”

Gulf nodded. “P’Boat and p’Jame filmed their kiss scene. It was weird.”

He found himself smiling. “Why weird?”

“I don’t know. They don’t know how to kiss.”

“Oh, is that so?” His tone was teasing.

“Mhm.”

“Didn’t you give them any advice?”

“I didn’t know what to tell them. It’s kissing, you just do it.”

That made him laugh. “I see.”

“What! It’s true. How would you explain it, then?”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one who French kissed their co-actor as soon as they got the chance.”

“I was being professional!”

“Uh-huh. Professional.” He raised his eyebrows to tease the younger and Gulf squirmed.

“I was!”

“You went to great lengths for the sake of professionalism.”

“Aren’t you the one who always says that I’m very dedicated to my job?” Gulf rebutted.

He giggled. “That has nothing to do with this. Admit you wanted to kiss me.”

“I was acting according to my character!”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying!” The exclamation was barely distinguishable through Gulf’s laughter.

“But you aren’t being honest either.”

“How am I not being honest?” More squirming. Too cute. “So you tell me, since you know me so well. Tell me, tell me.”

“I don’t want to,” he refused with a grin.

“See? You’re always like that.”

“There’s no point if I say it myself,” he mumbled with an exaggerated pout.

“Then don’t expect me to say anything because I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Don’t you dare, you know what I want you to say. You’re just mean.”

Gulf looked incredulous but also extremely amused. His voice raised in pitch. “How am I being mean?!”

“Forget it,” he pouted some more and looked away, feigning sudden interest on the pattern of his blanket.

He mentally counted to five.

“ _Fine_. I might have gotten a bit _too much_ into character,” Gulf mumbled.

Mew grinned. “That’s not it.”

A grunt came from the phone. “ Okay, I wanted to kiss you, happy now?”

His smile grew bigger. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

He gave the younger a look through the screen.

Gulf hid his face in his pillow and mumbled something unintelligible.

“What? I can’t hear you, babe.”

“You’re a bully. I don’t like you anymore.”

“I love you, though.”

That made Gulf deflate. He turned towards the screen again, looking all soft and disheveled. “I love you too.”

His heart swelled.

Whatever irritation he had felt up until then left him completely and he was so glad he had decided to call.

“Tell me about what you’ve done in the past days. We didn’t get to talk much.”

He listened through Gulf’s review of his day, asking questions softly when his nong wasn’t sure how to continue, getting lulled by the younger’s voice, speaking increasingly more quietly the more time passed.

They were both getting sleepy and he must have kept his eyes closed for too long after his latest blink, because Gulf paused whatever he was saying.

“You should sleep, phi.”

“No… I want to talk with you more,” he protested, but he couldn’t open his eyes anymore.

“You’re already asleep,” he heard the boy chuckle. “Good night, p’Mew.”

“’Night, babe.”

He was out a second later.

\--

His schedule continued being hectic throughout the month. Mew would fall asleep anywhere, at any time, to the point that he wondered if he had exchanged bodies with Gulf.

He met the younger for work at least, once every 3 days, but they didn’t have a single moment of privacy. He managed to sneak in a hug or two during breaks, but anything more than that was impossible and his skin was starting to itch with the need for intimacy.

It was driving him a little mad.

Gulf, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine.

It was not like he behaved differently from usual. If Mew hugged him, Gulf let him do that, if Mew went to search for him, Gulf would welcome him, if Mew called, Gulf answered and stayed on the phone with him as long as Mew could stay awake for.

But that was the problem.

Gulf was normal, when the situation wasn’t normal at all.

They had gone from spending almost everyday together in the privacy of their houses, to surviving on a couple, brief – and very public – stolen hugs every couple days.

And even if he was tired as hell, Mew craved more. Constantly.

He missed touching his boyfriend. Missed kissing him as deeply as he could go, while Gulf broke apart under his body. It was the sex, sure, but it was the intimacy especially. The time spent together. The sense of deep relaxation and comfort that came over him when he got to have Gulf in all ways possible, at any time of the day.

The knowledge that he was wanted, needed even, when Gulf crumbled under his fingers and pleaded to have more. Sometimes not as verbally as he would have preferred, but still loudly enough to make him feel like he was on top of the world, to assure him that Gulf felt just as strongly as he did.

But now they didn’t have the time nor the space for any of that. Gulf was welcoming him as usual, but it was controlled, peaceful, calm, while Mew felt like he was barely hanging on by a thin thread.

It was infuriating.

It made him feel like Gulf didn’t care, even if he knew that Gulf simply expressed himself differently. Still, he couldn’t fix his mood, and that seemed to reflect on his body language.

After stupidly scrolling Twitter, he realized, with dismay, that others had picked up on his weird behavior, and rumors about him becoming stuck-up and not getting along with Gulf anymore had surfaced on different platforms, creating big discussions.

He knew that wasn’t true.

He loved Gulf as much as ever, it was because he loved him so much that he was having a hard time coping with the little time they had together, but reading about break-up rumors made him feel like shit nonetheless.

The worst moments were the filming days, when he got to hold and kiss Gulf as Tharn. It was the most upsetting because no matter how similar Type was to Gulf, he wasn’t the same. He wasn’t really his baby.

And as soon as “cut” was called, the loss of Gulf hit him like a punch in the gut.

But he just took it, repeatedly, because it wasn’t anybody’s fault, just a decision they had taken together. It was temporary. When his showcase was over, they should be able to manage their time better – that was what they always told each other, and Gulf was doing well all considering, so why wasn’t he? He didn’t want to be needy. Gulf was so busy himself, he didn’t need a suffocating partner on top of it all. Nobody wanted that.

But sometimes he caught himself wishing that Gulf wouldn’t be okay and he hated himself for it.

\--

The climax of the series came with the most difficult NC scene he had ever filmed. The amount of feelings he had to pour into it left him so drained that he used the excuse of being wet and dirty to immediately disappear to the on-set bathroom.

Instead of stepping into the shower and warm himself up, he braced himself on the sink, dripping water all over the floor while he tried to get hold of his emotions. He couldn’t break on set. It wasn’t the time, nor the place, not to mention it was going to make his eyes puffier than they already were. 

His hands tightened around the sink and his knuckles turned white. No matter how hard he tried to brush everything off, he was angry. Bitter. Disappointed.

In Gulf, for being unaffected. In himself, for trying to strive for his dreams but being so dependent on his partner to feel like it was worth it.

And was it? Worth it?

Being a singer, making music, becoming a well-known actor, being booked and busy were all things he wanted and that he was finally accomplishing. Things that made him feel good about himself. That made him feel like maybe what he had experienced in the past wasn’t so bad, if it got him here. At the time he hadn’t been ready for any of this, but now, now he was. He was ready, he was working hard, he was doing well and he wanted to do better. So many people looked up to him and loved him and he wanted to give back a thousand times over.

But when the night fell and he finally hit pause for the day… when he was tired, when he questioned himself, when he was insecure, when he felt vulnerable… the desire to reach for Gulf and just _breathe_ was overwhelming.

He missed Gulf. He missed him in a way that no phone-call of fleeting moment together could satiate. The need he felt for his companionship was a hole in his chest that was only getting bigger, making everything he was doing with his life seem fragile, momentary, hollow. It could crumble at any moment. It had before. Why not again?

Bent over the sink, his vision swam and he chocked on his breath.

“P’Mew?”

He startled and immediately turned towards the locked door. He tried to answer but he only managed a silent sob.

He covered his face with his hand and forced himself to take a deep breath. Had he imagined it?

A light knock confirmed that no, he had not imagined it.

“P’Mew are you already in the shower?”

He run to the door and swung it open before his brain had even processed the words, immediately drinking Gulf in with his eyes like they hadn’t been facing each other all day just moments prior.

Gulf startled a little at the urgency. He was still drenched wet, his clothes sticking to him like a second skin. He had a towel around his neck that he had probably used to dry his hair a little, but most was still in his face. His lips still looked faintly purple after being in cold water for so long, just now warming again – he was the most beautiful he had ever been to Mew.

“Not yet,” he breathed out.

Gulf blinked at the state of his clothes and the water still dripping from his body, probably wondering what he had been doing in the bathroom up until that moment, but he didn’t question him about it.

Instead, he tightened his grip on the towel at his neck and looked at him with almost apologetically.

“Can we shower together? I’m cold.”

If he had been in a more stable state of mind, he would have declined the offer, no matter how deprived he felt – the filming crew and the rest of the cast were in the immediate vicinity of the bathroom and even without checking, he was sure that they were all keeping an inconspicuous eye on them; but he was at the end of his rope and the simple fact that Gulf was standing in front of that door… that he had come first, of his own volition… that he had voiced some kind of second-handed desire for attention… made him so happy that he couldn’t think straight.

His eyes wandered, in wonder, to the tip of Gulf’s small ears.

They were adorably red.

With gentle fingers, he grabbed Gulf’s wrist and pulled him inside, locking the bathroom door behind them.

Silence immediately closed in on them, like the walls of an invisible bubble.

He stared at Gulf, without letting him go, but also not trying to get any closer, and Gulf stared back, the flush at the top of his ears slowly spreading along his neck under Mew’s scrutinity.

Having the boy in there with him, where they had a semblance of privacy, made his mind swim in gut-wrenching _need_.

Gulf’s lips looked so good right then. So plump and soft, still swollen from their previous kissing scene.

His eyelashes were sticking together prettily, dark against his skin, and Mew felt the urge to brush a thumb over them, feel their father-light kiss on his fingertip, watch Gulf close his eyes and lean onto his touch like he was starved for it.

The desire to _touch, ravish, possess_ him hit him like a punch in the gut and Mew tightened his grip on the younger in an attempt to resist it, making the boy flinch.

He snatched his hand away, like he had been burned, and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“You should shower first if you’re cold. I don’t want you to get sick,” he said, very softly, afraid that his voice could pierce through the delicate bubble surrounding them.

He walked past Gulf to get a towel, so that he could at least occupy himself and stop dripping all over, but a pull from the back of his shirt stopped him in his tracks.

He turned around to find that Gulf was grabbing onto it with a little fist.

“Together.” His nong’s voice was also barely more than a whisper, but it still sounded incredibly firm to his ears.

He swallowed, an admonishment on the tip of his tongue.

The fist around his shirt tightened and Gulf’s eyes lowered to the floor. His voice was small and so incredibly sincere when he talked again.

“Please.”

He was the cutest thing Mew had ever seen in his life.

His hands moved on their own volition, one to circle his boyfriend’s narrow waist, the other to cradle his head, and soon his arms were full of a wet Gulf, arching beautifully in a hungry, desperate kiss with a little yelp of surprise.

Cute.

The most adorable. Endearing. The sweetest. The best boy in existence.

He wanted to eat him up. Consume him. Ruin him.

Their wet clothes came off with difficulty but inexorably, while he kissed Gulf anywhere he could reach, so drunk on the smell and taste of his skin he felt high on it.

He didn’t know how they reached the shower, or who opened the water, but they both took a sharp breath in when the cold spray hit them, successfully separating them long enough to look in each other’s eyes.

And there he was – his baby.

His eyes already glassy, his lips swollen, skin blushing, clinging to his biceps like a clawed kitten.

“Hey,” he murmured on his lips, their noses bumping together and water getting into their eyes. It was like he was seeing him for the first time, a vision so breathtaking he could barely speak.

Gulf closed his eyes and pushed his cheek into the hand that was cradling his face, exactly like Mew had imagined just a few minutes prior, making his heart flutter almost painfully in his chest.

Gulf’s eyebrows drew together and, all of a sudden, he looked pained too. Both his nong’s hands grabbed his wrists, and the boy rubbed his face more insistently against his hand, as if frustrated that he couldn’t melt into his palm.

Mew stared, unable to understand what he was witnessing.

He kind of looked like…

He sucked a breath in.

_Oh._

_Like a cat headbutting their owner._

He moved his hand around Gulf’s head, sinking his fingers in the younger’s hair, and gently pressed their foreheads together.

His boyfriend’s eyes were big, his little pants a frustrated song against his lips.

They stared each other in the eyes for a moment and Mew could tell that there was something that Gulf really wanted to say, but couldn’t seem to voice.

The boy closed his eyes and nuzzled the side of his face with a soft sigh.

His chest swelled – he knew what Gulf was trying to say.

So he answered, his voice rough and raw: “I missed you too.”

Gulf catching his lips in a searing kiss was the only confirmation that he had read his lover right.

Mew tongued and touched him greedily everywhere he could reach, making the boy tremble beautifully against his body. He chanted as many compliments as he could come up with between kisses as if to mark them on his skin, while warm water kept sliding down their bodies.

Nothing mattered. The time they had already spent in there together, the people waiting for them outside that bathroom, the inappropriacy of what they were doing.

Nothing mattered but Gulf missing him as much as he had and being there, right in that moment, to tell him so, with his own love language.

“Tell me what you want.”

He bit into the younger’s earlobe and Gulf suppressed a small moan.

He sucked on his neck, making the boy’s head lol to the side. “Tell me what you want,” he repeated.

His fingers slipped between Gulf’s smooth thighs and he circled his puckered entrance.

The boy sucked a breath in and hung onto his back while Mew carefully played with it.

He wanted in. He wanted to bury himself inside the younger and never be separated again.

But he needed Gulf to want it with the same desperation. He wanted Gulf to say it. To ask for it. To beg.

A confident hand grabbed his already hard cock with a firm grip and pumped it a couple of times, making him almost lose balance and his eyes roll at the back of his head.

_Shit._

It had been a while.

“This. I want this.”

Gulf looked so determined and serious about it with his brows drawn together, but his voice sounded petulant, pouty – a spoiled brat’s demand.

Absolutely adorable.

He mentally thanked whoever had supplied the toiletries in the rack on the shower wall and with some maneuvering he successfully squeezed enough hair conditioner on his hand to lather his fingers.

Gulf also presented him his hand, palm up, and he squeezed some more for him, almost loosing it when his boyfriend used it to slid his fist more easily over his length.

He slipped a finger after the other inside Gulf, without ever stopping to kiss him and touch him. Every time he brushed his special spot, Gulf would make a small sound and the boy’s grip around him would tighten almost painfully. When the sudden high was over, Gulf would pump his length, almost as if he was saying sorry and Mew’s vision would swim in pleasure.

Thankfully, for the last shred of dignity they had left, Gulf wasn’t a loud lover, and the shower spray covered most of his little moans – mostly breathless intakes of air and high pitched, soft sounds that came out of his throat and died on Mew’s tongue.

Lovely.

By the time he was done, Gulf was a trembling mess in his arms, clinging onto him almost with his whole weight, his legs weak like jelly.

He was panting while resting his check on his shoulder and Mew paused for a moment to just hold him, feeling overwhelmed.

“My baby.” He kissed Gulf’s forehead and the younger squeezed his eyes shut with a drunk smile on his lips.

He was contemplating to stop, making them come with a quick handjob and just kiss the boy through their shower, but Gulf must have realized that he was stalling, because he circled Mew’s neck with his arms, looked at him with a defiant expression and demanded: “Up.”

Mew turned them around, switching their positions so that Gulf was the one with his back against the shower wall. Then, he raised one of Gulf’s legs, hooking it to the fold of his arm to expose his most intimate part.

Gulf whined in displeasure and Mew nuzzled him to appease him, his hardness dragging on the younger’s other leg.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not confident that I can carry your weight right now and I don’t want to risk it in a slippery shower.”

Gulf seemed to deflate at that. His stricken and guilty expression was just too cute for words.

Gulf kissed his eyelid – his way to say he was sorry.

A moment later his breath caught as Mew slid into him.

This time the moan came from him and he was thankful to the shower wall for keeping him upright.

“Ah, so tight.”

Gulf clawed at his buttocks, urging him to move, so he did, sinking inside him over and over, chasing the pleasure burning in his lower belly, watching Gulf throw back his head in a silent scream, his eyes glazed over, his pupils dark and blown, so high on pleasure that his whole body was flushing with it. Despite the state he was in, he still found the force to bite his beautiful, plump lips and look at Mew through lowered, wet eyelashes to demand more, faster, deeper.

Mew bit and chewed onto his neck every time he pushed in.

The harder he went on him, the more satisfied Gulf’s smile turned and soon Mew found himself grinning too.

_Spoiled little thing._

As swiftly as possible, he turned Gulf around and put pressure on his lower back, making the younger successfully bend and brace himself on the wall.

“P’Mew-“

His voice cracked as soon as Mew entered him again.

His sounds turned incoherent and Mew played him, touched and teased his nipples, the softness of his stomach, the smoothness of his inner thighs, and finally his leaking cock, wrapping it in his hand a little more forcefully than necessary, making Gulf stand on his tiptoes and squirm around him.

With his free hand, he circled the younger’s neck and pulled him upright.

He put his lips against Gulf’s small ear, where he knew his boyfriend was weakest, and a with barely a whisper he ordered: “Come.”

All it took was the twist of his hand on the head of his cock and then Gulf was coming with a deep shudder, his warm cum coating his fingers, his internal walls contracting deliciously around Mew.

Mew’s whole body was burning in pleasure. He thrusted into that welcoming heat a couple times more and then he was coming too, spilling inside Gulf with a satisfied, low grunt, caressing his favorite tummy while he filled it, thrusting inside Gulf to push it deeper, so deep inside him he hoped the boy could taste it on his tongue, so that it could never come out no matter how much he cleaned himself, so that he would drip his cum whenever he went…

When he finally came down from his high, he carefully slipped out of Gulf’s abused hole, his cock twitching all over again when he saw his come spill out of it, quickly dragged along Gulf’s long legs by the water.

If he hadn’t felt like he was going to pass out soon, he might have done something about it, but exhaustion and sex really didn’t mix well together and they had definitely already spent longer than it was decent inside that bathroom, so he just sighed and let it go, suddenly feeling amused by the fact that he felt like his come running towards the drain was a waste.

Man, he needed to get a hold of his rampaging kinks.

When he opened his eyes again, he realized that Gulf had turned around and was cupping his face.

“Are you okay?”

He circled the younger’s waist. “I should be the one asking that.”

“I haven’t been this well in weeks.” Gulf smile was a beautiful mix of cheeky, shy and incredibly sated.

Mew mirrored it. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

“Shut up.”

They washed up as quickly as they could, but Mew still lingered too long with his fingers inside Gulf, while he tried to wash him up. They were too tired to think of more, but also too high on endorphins to wash up clinically.

They shampooed each other’s hair and made them into stupid shapes and didn’t stop giggling once.

When they finally walked out of the shower, he used a towel to dry Gulf’s hair and the younger sighed, resting his head on his shoulder.

Mew held him, feeling content but also not ready to let go.

For the millionth time, he though that it wouldn’t have been so hard if they lived together. If they could at least come back to each other at night and be safe in each other’s embrace.

He had jokingly thrown the suggestion in here and there before, but Gulf had always dismissed it with a smile. Mew didn’t want to push it, but at the same time he couldn’t see any other solution to their predicament. He wasn’t freaking out about the fact that they just had sex on set only because he was too happy to care. He had been starved for weeks, the moment Gulf asked for it he was bound to give in. Anywhere. At any time.

He had no power against his baby’s desires.

“I’m sorry.”

His heart skipped a beat and he looked down at his armful of Gulf. The younger’s eyes were pointed towards an indefinite point on the wall, but Mew was pretty sure that he wasn’t focusing on anything outside of his own mind.

“For what?”

“Making you even more tired.” Gulf hid his face in the crook of his neck and Mew felt affection surge inside him. “I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Mew swallowed. It wasn’t very often that Gulf was so honest about how he felt, but he was still in the zone and Mew had all the intention to take as much as he could out of him.

“What’s ‘this’?”

“Sex. Intimacy. Cuddles? Attention…” He attempted a small shrug. “Me, I guess.”

Gulf’s ears were red again. He grabbed one and gently played with it.

“But?”

Gulf’s voice became very small. “I missed you.”

Mew’s heart soared.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I really want you to be successful and I want to support you in everything you are doing, and I know you’re exhausted, and I didn’t want to put my needs on top of it all, so I tried to stay away so you could rest as much as possible, but then you started being colder and I thought maybe I did something wrong and I didn’t know what to do to make you feel better-“

He held Gulf’s head tight against his chest. “Shh, it’s all right now. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I was just cranky because of lack of sleep and because I missed you. I’m sorry.”

They held each other a moment longer, simply savoring the closeness between their bodies, and Mew felt all the tension that had built up in the past weeks finally drain from his body, leaving him exhausted but extremely content.

Tiredness had clouded his judgement. It wasn’t that Gulf didn’t care or was unaffected. Gulf had been trying his best to go through every day independently so that Mew didn’t have to worry about him and could concentrate on his own work. Because he wanted Mew to be happy and successful in everything he did and that was his way of being supportive, to show that he loved him.

He raised Gulf’s head, so that he could look at the younger in the eyes. He kissed his eyelid.

“You’re not a bother. Ever. I want you to be honest with me. I wish you would ask me for anything you want, at any time.”

Gulf chewed on his bottom lip, looking nervous.

“What is it, love?”

“Can you ask me again?”

“Ask you what?”

The younger looked down and then back up. “Nothing, I’m sorry, forget it.”

Mew stared at his red cheeks and wondered. It couldn’t possibly be what he had been thinking, right?

He searched Gulf’s expression, but his lover was stubbornly avoiding his eyes. Still, it was worth a try.

“Move in with me?” he asked, tentatively.

Gulf startled in his arms and looked back at him with wide eyes. “Yes!”

This time it was his turn to be surprised. “Wait, really?”

The boy rested his forehead on his shoulder and nodded against it, hiding his face.

Mew couldn’t believe it. His throat had run completely dry, but his eyes felt incredibly wet. He rubbed Gulf’s back, more to ground himself than to ground his lover. “A-are you sure? I know we don’t get to see each other enough now, but in a couple of weeks it could be different, after my showcase is over-”

“You have another million projects lined up and I do too.”

That shut him up. It was true. They had just tried to push the thought away for as long as possible.

“I want you to hold me to sleep.” Gulf’s voice was muffled against his skin, but it left Mew breathless nonetheless. He kept as still as he could, afraid that the sudden burst of honesty would cease if he disturbed it. “I don’t want to wait for you to call anymore. It’s too lonely, when you don’t.”

That made his heart break a little and he held the boy tighter, as tight as he could. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.”

“I won’t ask for anything else, I’ll be good, I just need…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll hold you. All night, every night. I promise.”

Gulf nodded, accepting his word, and they held each other just a moment longer, sealing their new pact.

\--

Mew knew that he wasn’t alone as soon as he got into his apartment.

It was the lingering smell of food floating in the air – something spicy, he could tell by the way it tickled his nose, definitely something that would have burned his tongue.

His heart immediately leaped in excitement.

He hurriedly took his shoes off with his feet, ready to just sprint towards his bedroom and check whether he was right, but as soon as he tried to leave the entrance, he stumbled onto another pair.

He definitely hadn’t left _those_ there.

Even more optimistic, he walked further into the house, past the living room and the bathroom, to the door of his bedroom, left slightly ajar.

He took a trembling breath and opened it.

The room was dark, but with the little light filtering through the curtains, he could still tell that someone was sleeping in his bed. On the right side.

He was here.

Gulf was here.

Mew’s eyes prickled and he decided to take a shower before he could make a fool out of himself.

He took a ridiculously long time in the bathroom, stunned by the traces Gulf had left behind – there was an extra toothbrush in the toothbrush holder next to the sink, and that strange rock that he used as a deodorant was in the shower rack.

By the time he was back into his room, his eyes were puffy.

He was slipping on a pair of briefs and a tank top as silently as possible in pitch darkness when he heard the blankets rustle.

“P’Mew?”

Gulf’s voice was groggy but so beautiful to his ears. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you turn on the light?”

He climbed onto his side of the bed and slipped under the blankets.

Their legs bumped and Mew immediately took the chance to slid his foot between the younger’s.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured.

His hand reached the boy’s warm waist and circled it. Gulf immediately shuffled forward, slotting himself in his embrace seamlessly. Mew would never cease to be surprised by how easily Gulf molded himself to him. It was like he shrunk in size, because there was no way such a giant could fit so perfectly in his arms, but Gulf did. It was like he was born to be there.

Mew breathed him in.

Gulf smelled like his shampoo and sleep – a warm, cozy and sweet scent that immediately relaxed him.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he whispered. “It’s still early.”

The boy hummed in agreement, burying himself deeper in his chest and Mew tightened his hold around him.

“Gulf?”

“Hmm?”

“Welcome home.”

Gulf hummed again, already so gone he probably hadn’t even understood his words, and Mew smiled against the side of his head.

Now he was home too.


End file.
